


2015 Jackunzel Week

by CaptainNightGale



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, I guess???, Jackunzel - Freeform, Reincarnation AU, RotBTD, [I swear that's the worst of it], [character death is the first chapter], [it's incredibly cheesy for the most part], and a very vague history, ok some light angst, the big four, watch me attempt a terrible resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNightGale/pseuds/CaptainNightGale
Summary: The sun is eternal, the moon has phases and faces and they will always meet again. Just... sometimes it takes longer than others[there was a prompt week, I got involved. All based on quotations from various media]





	1. Memento Mori

**Author's Note:**

> Haha so like _this_ is about three years out of date.  
>  I only found them the other week when I was digging through files  & decided to spruce them up a bit. Idk.  
>  Title from _Princess Bride_ , etc etc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha so like this is about three years out of date.  
> I only found them the other week when I was digging through files & decided to spruce them up a bit. Idk.
> 
> Actual quotation-prompt that this was based on was "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.” from _The Princess Bride_ but I'm a terrible person, so!

Rapunzel trudged on, head bowed and eyes slitted against the snow swirling about them. One foot in front of another. She kept her gaze on the hem of Jack’s jacket in front of her. One foot in front of another. She wore her hair like a scarf, thickly plaited and wound about her neck, down the inside of the coat she wore, the coat that was too big without her hair, but with it only just fitted. It was itchy and heavy and maybe she would be better cutting it all off, but she - she couldn’t quite bring herself to do that. Better to take it out of reach, in case cutting it left the magic with _them_ , with Gothel and Pitch and those who _chased_ , who wanted-  
“It isn’t much further.” Jack’s hands were inexplicably warm against her face as he turned back to her, jolting her from her thoughts.  
Rapunzel blinked at him. “How can you tell?”  
They’d lost any semblance of a path a _long_ time back, but Jack hadn’t hesitated, even when the blizzard descended on them.  
“I know these woods.” Jack smiled reassuringly, and his hand slipped down to hold hers, and she imagined that she could feel his furnace-like heat even through her gloves. In his other hand - on his shoulder - was the rucksack that held everything they could throw together in the hurry that they’d been in. Rapunzel had offered to carry it more than once, but he’d insisted he take it. Said her hair was heavy enough for her to carry.  
He hadn’t been _wrong_ , but she’d still rather have helped carry the bag. Or been ready with one of her own, rather than panicking and blinking in disbelief that he’d even _attempted_ the rescue, let alone actually _managed_ it. (Yes, but his sister- Rapunzel’s traitorous thoughts bit back, dampening whatever spirit she had left, because that was her fault and if he found out - she should have told him-)  
She glanced back, as if to see their trail; there was nothing there, their footprints filled up almost as soon as they’d lifted their feet. Impossible to track, hard to follow. Maybe they would be safe out here.  
“Hey, ‘Punz.” His breath was warm on her cheek, and Rapunzel started. “There it is, see?” He pointed out ahead of them.  
The silhouette of a cabin could be seen through the driving snow, a square dark shadow at odds with the shadows of trees about it.  
She chattered a smile at him, the cold biting deep into her bones.  
Jack smiled at her in return, and she couldn’t help the involuntary gasp that had her choking on snow because that smile-  
Jack pulled her on towards the cabin, apparently unaware of the effect his smile _still_ had on Rapunzel, even after the past year (and before, but the past year was when it had _really_ \- when _they_ had really become a thing once more). “Come on, we can get out of this snow and get you warm.”  
Rapunzel stumbled after him, fighting back her coughs until she could breathe normally, until they were at the door and falling in under their weight, and-  
And Jack spun, light on his feet as ever, catching her and pulling her in and swirling to a neat halt, kicking the door shut after them. The snow battered at the windows, the window howled around the corners, and... the cabin wasn’t _warm_ \- disused and cobwebbed and dark - but it was dry and inside and it was - for the moment - safe.  
“Come on.” Jack peeled off his coat, hung it up on the hooks with his scarf and hat, running a hand through his flattened brown hair to coax it back into its usual wild tangle. He kicked off his boots and the socks that went with them, and shouldered open the near door.  
It caught on thick carpet and stayed open, showing Rapunzel a cozy looking room with a fire set and waiting to be lit in the grate, with chairs and a sofa and books against the walls. It was dark, the curtains pulled tight against the windows to keep in the heat.  
She pulled off her own soaked outerwear and hung it up beside Jack’s.  
He knelt to light the fire as Rapunzel followed him more slowly into the room, untangling her hair from where it lay wrapped about her body.  
“And no one else knows about this place? How to find it?”  
“Just us-”  
“Just _you_ ,” Rapunzel corrected. “ _I_ couldn’t make that trip on my own.” She’d be utterly lost in the woods within _seconds_.  
Jack laughed at her, rocking back on his heels from the lit fire. “Just _me_ , then, and Mary. We used to come every summer, before our parents - well, it got a whole lot harder.”  
He talked on, about all the things that they used to do in the cabin and the surrounding woods.  
Rapunzel stared at him, unable to hear any of it over the roaring in her ears. His sister. Oh, well- “Even in the snow?” she managed, faintly. “It must be so different from the summer.”  
“Oh - nah, we can do it _blindfolded_. Did, once, actually.” Jack laughed, lost in the memories. “We got so many scratches 'n' bruises from that, but it was worth it.”  
“Jack-” Rapunzel started. She had to tell him, it wasn’t safe, but - but where else could they go? Maybe he was overstating, maybe-  
“Jack!” A faint voice from outside. _Her_ voice, his sister’s voice, and Jack’s head shot up like a rabbit, focusing intently on the covered windows.  
“It can’t be,” he murmured, getting to his feet. “She wouldn’t-”  
“It’s not,” Rapunzel said. “Jack, before, back in the city, when they-” her words died, but he wasn’t listening.  
Wasn’t listening, because his sister was outside and calling for him, and he _always_ went when she called, was always there to look out for her. Apart from the one time he trusted Rapunzel with her, and she’d _failed_.  
“Jack!” Her voice was terrified, and Rapunzel could almost believe it was her out there.  
It probably wasn’t, it was probably just a trap, but-  
But Jack believed it, and he stepped past Rapunzel to the door.  
Rapunzel caught at his wrist. “I don’t think it’s her.”  
“But if it is, and she’s in trouble?” He flashed a pained glance at her, and she let go. They’d got this far.  
“Jack!” His sister’s voice was insistent, and Jack didn’t hesitate any longer.  
He wrenched the front door open and ran out into the snow, without boots, without jacket, without _hat_.  
Rapunzel followed, pausing only to shove her feet into her boots and wrap her hair back around her in a pale imitation of a coat. “Jack!”  
She stumbled into him three paces from the cabin, hitting his back. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself and looked around him, to where-  
“Let her go!” Jack’s hands grabbed uselessly at nothing, and he raised himself onto the balls of his feet as if to throw himself at the-  
It wasn’t Pitch. It _looked_ like Pitch, but it probably wasn’t. Rapunzel could count on one hand the number of times she’d actually seen Pitch in person.  
But it was tall and dark, and she almost imagined she could see the grains of sand that made up the bulk of the almost elegantly proportioned man. _Almost_ , because he was - it was too perfect, and crossed the line again into eerie and inhuman and... and everything that Pitch _was_ , every nightmare, every uneasy thought and fear, and when he bared his teeth to laugh derision at them, Rapunzel could see the smooth points to them, almost like shark’s teeth. They seemed to extend backwards forever, giving the impression of a mouth that went on and on, big enough to swallow the world.  
“Who, _this_?” It raised a hand that was all hooked fingers and knife-like nails, and in its tight grasp was the collar of Mary’s coat.  
Mary herself hung limp in the creature’s grasp, the fight gone from her. She was staring at Jack in hopeless hope, the thin belief that he might still save her slowly drowning in the cold.  
Jack uttered something that was more of a growl than an answer, but the Pitch creature smiled all the same.  
“You know my price, Jackson _Overland_.” It gave Mary a little shake, like a dog with a rabbit. “Return Rapunzel to us.”  
Rapunzel closed her eyes, taking in a sharp, snow-spiked breath. She couldn’t say she _hadn’t_ expected that, and she couldn’t blame Jack for-  
“No!” Mary interrupted her thought, interrupted _Jack_ before he could even speak. “You _shouldn’t_ , you _can’t_!”  
“Mary,” Jack said, halting, and Rapunzel felt her heart shatter at the break in his voice.  
She slipped her hand into Jack’s as she stepped around him, boots too big and sliding on her feet. She hadn’t tied them up, wasn’t wearing socks to fill the gaps.  
“Punz, what are you-”  
“It’s ok, Jack.” She forced herself to smile at him, and maybe it was a little tired and sad and strained, but that was ok. She would do right by them. “It’s my fault - you swear she’ll be safe, Pitch?” She turned to the creature, trying not to let her shivering show. She should have pulled on her coat - it was cold, not fear.  
How Jack stood so still beside her, in little more than trousers and jumper, she had no idea.  
“Please, Punz,” he begged, tightening his hand around hers. “I’ve only just found you, I can’t-”  
“She will be safe,” the creature said, blinking its eyes almost like a snake.  
“We’ll find each other again,” Rapunzel said, cupping Jack’s face in her free hand. “I _promise_.” Maybe not in this lifetime of his, but - but he always came back. He always found her.  
His eyes searched her face. “You never did say,” he whispered, “How many of us there had been.”  
Rapunzel smiled and pressed her lips to his cheek, and didn’t reply. There had only ever been one of her. But he... oh, she hadn’t lost count. But there had been many. And this had been the closest yet, the one she had been so sure would work-  
“We grow _weary_ ,” the creature hissed, and Mary yelped as it hoisted her higher, legs dangling in the air.  
“Alright.” Rapunzel nodded and stepped forward.  
Jack’s warmth slipped through her fingers, both unwilling to let go.  
The creature threw Mary artlessly at Jack, and they went tumbling backwards into the snow.  
Rapunzel twisted as if to help them, and the creature caught at her hair, pulling her back. She yelled, pulling back for a second. She felt hairs _snap_ in its grasp, and then she slipped in her too-big boots and fell at its feet.  
Jack and Mary were standing, Jack pushing Mary back towards the cabin. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Rapunzel since he’d stood back up and now, as Mary ran towards the warmth of the cabin, he leapt forward through the snow, fists clenched.  
The Pitch-creature raised its hand to meet him, and it morphed, swirling black sand in the snow to become a scythe, a knife, a _talon_ -  
Rapunzel screamed.  
Jack was brought short with a cough, and dropped into the snow with a thud.  
“You _promised_!” Rapunzel yelled at the creature, pummelling its side. “You said you wouldn’t-”  
“I said nothing of the boy,” it replied, dispassionate as its weapon became an arm again, scattering drops of berry-red blood in the snow.  
Rapunzel wrenched herself free and flung herself to her knees by Jack. “Jack - no, no you can’t, you aren’t supposed to-” she pressed shaking hands to the damp patch on his chest, as if that could stop it.  
“’Punz, I had to - I couldn’t let them just-” he coughed, and blood stained his lips.  
Rapunzel pulled at her hair, bringing some of it over her shoulder, lifting Jack up to wrap it around him.  
The snow was falling and he was _cold_ , like he’d never been before, and she-  
She sobbed, trying to focus. “Flower - flower g-g-gleam and-”  
The Pitch-creature pulled her backwards, away.  
“No!” She reached out for Jack, struggling and fighting. “Jack!”  
“I - I’ll see you again,” he managed to gasp out. “Right? After all, death-” His head lolled back in the snow. Everything was falling, and he was covered in whiteness.  
She was aware, distantly, of the Pitch-creature shifted its bulk around her, lifting her out of the snow. She kept her eyes on Jack, trembling out the words, all jumbled together in a flurry of tears and - and it wasn’t supposed to happen like _this_ , like...  
Mary was standing in the entrance to the cabin, clutching at the door frame. She watched with wide eyes, frozen to the spot.  
The strength drained from Rapunzel and she lay limp against the creature’s back as it took her away from the last people she had ever loved.


	2. Memento Vivere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t remember your name?” “No, but for some reason I remember yours.” from _Spirited Away_ is the actual quotation prompt for this day, but it didn't work so well for a chapter title and I'm a massive latin nerd, so.

Rapunzel slowed down as she walked along the pavement beside the park, watching the kids playing. Years past, towns grew and changed around them, and... and children always remained the same. This park, too, had gone through changes. There was more to it now; swings, a roundabout, a proper slide. She remembered when it had been bare grass, scraggly trees - the trees were still crooked and thin, but they clung to life with a tenacity that warmed her. She’d seen rope swings set up and fray and fall, and remembered a boy-  
She busied herself changing hands on the shopping bags, stretching out the cramped one and hissing at the white-and-red lines that marred her fingers and palms.  
All these years and her life remained the same. Shopping, cooking, locked in the house while Gothel and Pitch had their way with a world that changed about them and because of them, yet never noticed them staying still and unchanging in the heart of it all.  
Gothel would be waiting for her shopping, and though Rapunzel wanted to stay and watch the children (and remember her own childhood, somehow. It was so long ago that maybe she’d never had one, that maybe this had _always_ been her lot in life, but she remembered laughter and running and a boy-)  
Rapunzel shook her head, braced her shoulders against the adjusted weight of the shopping, and walked away from the park. If that had ever been her life, it wasn’t now. She could no more fight against that than she could cut her hair, which was tied into a thick plait the length of her body, sun yellow but streaked with awkward stray sprays of brown of all lengths, where it had broken. Or she had cut it, maybe, and not remembered (or repressed, because the punishment that came with damaging her hair-).  
In the park at her back, a flurry of snow on the north wind sent the roundabout spinning faster than the children could keep up with, sent them laughing and tumbling onto the ground that iced under their feet, sending them slipping and sliding to the bottom of the double slide and into a heap with those coming down from its top.  
She heard the laughter and couldn’t smile, but to know that there was happiness somewhere in the world still, despite everything, was enough to make her life that little bit less dark.  
The tall, spindly house was cold and empty as she pushed open the door with her elbow. It had once been on the outskirts of the town, at the edge of the forest from the village, but time had seen the expansion of all things and now it sat as a counterpoint to the quiet city suburbs around it, out of place and time. If ever it was noticed, Rapunzel had never heard the neighbours comment on it. Just as she had never heard them commenting on the unchanging nature of its occupants; herself, always on the cusp of adulthood, and Gothel, in the prime of her own life and elegant with it.  
She put away the shopping and slipped out again, pausing only to grab the last of her sketchpads and the pencils that she’d been squirrelling away. If she had the rest of the afternoon to herself, then - well, she wasn’t one to waste it inside the walls of her prison.  
The world itself might be her prison, but the world was far wider than the house that was all but a tower in name.  
She wandered from the house, from the suburbs and out to the edges of the city where the trees still grew strong and tall, unconcerned for humanity on its doorstep.  
Amongst the trees was quiet and calm, and she found her way by memory more than sight to the overhang of the lake, and sat to gaze out over the forest as it fell away before her.  
A cool wind rustled through the trees as she sat, sketchbook open and pencil loose in her hand. She closed her eyes at its passing and tilted her head back, sighing at the relief it brought from the almost sticky heat of the day.  
When she opened her eyes again, there was a boy sitting crouched at the very edge of the overhang, peering down at the lake. He was bony-thin and pale, the blue hoodie and brown trousers he wore the only splashes of colour about him. His hair - a shock of white, carefully tousled into disregard - floated lightly in the breeze, almost like thistledown.  
Rapunzel hadn’t heard him approach, and she drew her knees up to her chest, the sketchpad tight in both hands and ready to be used as a weapon. “Hello?”  
He didn’t look around, not at first.  
“Excuse me.” Rapunzel tried again, more insistently. “Who are you?”  
He started, hand reaching for a staff that lay on the ground beside him. “You can - see me?” He turned to face her, and Rapunzel’s breath caught in her throat because that wasn’t fair, that was just cruel, and if Pitch-  
Well, it would be just his style, to remind her so cruelly.  
“Who are you?” she asked, because it _couldn’t_ be, not after so long, not-  
“You - you _can_ ,” he said, which wasn’t a reply, but the wonder in his eyes, the awe-  
Rapunzel closed her own eyes, unwilling to look at him. She _couldn’t_ look at him, because that would mean-  
“Rapunzel.”  
She stiffened, and cracked open an eye.  
“That’s - that’s your name. Isn’t it?”  
“How do you... know that?” she asked, little more than a whisper.  
The boy shrugged, tilting his head to examine her. “It’s the only thing I know for certain.”  
His eyes were different, and yet - the same, all at once. They were blue, like ice, not warm and brown, but... but there was the same curiosity, the same spark of-  
Rapunzel shook her head and got to her feet. She couldn’t - she _wouldn’t_ do this again. Not after so long, not after the last - she was sure that would have been it.  
She still remembered the blood in the snow, _that_ was as clear as anything.  
“Why are you leaving?” He stood, staff in hand, but didn’t come any closer. He held a hand out to her, palm up. As if coaxing a scared animal.  
“Because - because I - I have to get back. They’ll miss me. If I’m not there.” Her sentences jumbled, clipped. It was all she could do not to - not to just... break down. But she wouldn’t. Not in front of a stranger. Not in front of someone who wore a pale imitation of his face, the face that graced nearly every page in every sketchbook that she had hidden in her room.  
This was a trick of Pitch’s, it _had_ to be, and he would be watching for her reaction, would derive _pleasure_ from watching her crumple and fold. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.  
“No - please, you’re the first person to see me.” The desperation cracked his voice and Rapunzel halted in her stride. “I’m just - I don’t want to be alone.”  
Rapunzel didn’t look back at him, _couldn’t_ look back at him. “What’s your name?”  
“I-” he hesitated. “Frost,” he said eventually. “I think.”  
She could have _laughed_. Named for - “A good trick, Pitch. But I’m not falling for it.” She walked away through the trees.  
“Who’s Pitch?” he asked, following her.  
She didn’t hear his feet on the ground, but he was close by.  
“Rapunzel,” he said again, and his hand was cold upon her wrist.  
She flinched back, pulling away.  
“Sorry, I-” He shrank in on himself, almost coiled around his staff. “I just - Punz. Please help me.” He wasn’t standing on the ground at all, was balanced on his staff and held it between them like a barrier, with hope in his eyes and fear on his hands. “You’re the first person to see me, and it’s _your_ name, that’s the only thing I’ve ever known, since I-”  
“Don’t say it,” she cut across him. “I don’t want to hear about the snow, or the cabin, or-”  
He was looking at her strangely. Wonder and hope and a little bit of awe. “How did you-”  
“I have to go,” Rapunzel said, and ran.  
This wasn’t _fair_ , not after so long, not now that she’d - that she’d given up hope of ever seeing him again, that she’d believed the cycle broken. that she - that he was-  
The wind cut deep and cold and tasted of snow.  
The boy - Frost - was before her, at the edge of the trees. “I just want to talk,” he said, as she slowed to a stumbling halt. “That’s all. Please? I promise, I’m not - I’m not with Pitch, whoever he is.”  
“How did you know my name, then?” Only Pitch and Gothel knew her in this city, knew her name. There was no way he could have got it from anyone else.  
He shrugged. “It’s the only thing I knew. There was a girl, in the snow, and she was crying. But she couldn’t see me, couldn’t hear me, and-” he reached out his hand to her again. “Please. I’m just - cold.”  
Rapunzel hesitated. This could still be a trick, a trap, Pitch’s latest way to amuse himself. And yet...  
And yet. Something in her begged for hope, begged for this to be _right_ , for him to be-  
“Frost,” she said, squashing the desire to say _Jack_ because he - because this boy wasn’t. “I’m Rapunzel. But you already knew that.” She offered her hand.  
His face lit up and his hand was cold in hers, cold as Jack’s never had been, and he sighed in delight at _her_ warmth, at her-  
At _her_ , like she was his salvation.  
She drew back, because how could she be anyone’s salvation? She’d got Jack _killed_ , she’d got his sister - she’d watched his sister grow old, helpless to help her, only able to watch and offer her comfort at the very last, when the girl she’d known as a child looked old enough to be her grandmother.  
“Can we talk?” he asked, oblivious to everything below her surface. “I need to know.”  
“We will, I - I promise,” she said, with only the slightest bit of hesitation. Her promises had little weight these days, but he grasped at that like a drowning man at a life ring. “But not now.” She had to leave, to go back to the house, in case Gothel came back and found her gone.  
“Out there?” Frost pointed back into the woods, to where they’d met. “I’ll be waiting.”  
“I’ll come when I can,” she said, and ducked her head as she turned away, to hide the tears that beaded at the corners of her eyes.


	3. Memento Pugni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm getting my latin right anymore. Ah well
> 
> “Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.” (Peter Pan) is the quotation this one is (loosely) based on.

Frost frowned at the sketch he held in his hands, studying the face of the boy that both was and wasn’t him. 

Rapunzel (- ‘Punz, _‘Punzie_ \- he delighted in her name because it was the cornerstone of his memory, of everything he had lived for since waking up in the snow) had drawn it for him, when they’d met on the overhang that second time. It was the face of a boy that both was and wasn’t him. 

She’d sketched one of him, too, for comparison. Just a quick line drawing, because he’d never seen his face reflected in anything but water and ice. 

They _looked_ similar, he had to admit that. Same lines, same smile, same- 

But he was ice-white and blue where the boy was warm and brown. He was - he was Frost, unknowable and capricious, bringer of cold snow and hard ice. A trickster, a mockery of anything the boy had been. 

And Rapunzel - she had loved the boy. He could tell, in the longing gaze when she stared at him for too long, the half-bitten lower lip, the _constant_ avoidance of looking at his eyes (because it was his eyes, he had realised, where the most semblance lay, and yet - where the most differences lay. Cold blue to warm brown, a spark of sly trickery to open and honest caring). 

She hadn’t said how long it had been since she’d seen the other boy, but it had to have been a long time. She was too worn down for it to be a short time; the talking of him _hurt_ , so they didn’t do it much, but not like a fresh wound but more an old scar. It wasn’t picking at scabs, it was trying to soothe a dull ache she couldn’t feel anywhere but in her soul. 

The wind tugged at the pictures he held, and he folded them carefully into the pocket of his hoodie and looked up. He was lounging against the chimneys of an old factory, somewhere in the city. He hadn’t noticed too much, when the wind had set him down initially. 

He had been looking for Rapunzel - not that it was their day to meet, but she didn’t say _so much_ and he was worried for her, and the way she hurried to and from every meeting, furtive like she was expecting to be followed- 

Frost knew that wasn’t normal, because he’d been watching people pass him by for _years_. They only moved like that when they were scared of something. 

So he’d breezed into the city one day, searching for any sign of her. He knew so _little_ of her, that was the problem. He didn’t know where she lived, what she did - anything. 

When he’d first seen her, at the park, she’d been carrying shopping. He’d attempted to trace that route, but only ended up in the suburbs, surrounded by ordinary looking houses that didn’t (to him) seem fit for anyone to survive amongst, let alone his - his princess. 

Frost blinked. That was new. In all their talks, he’d never - she’d never said anything of her own solitary past, and he’d never made connections to _anything_ she’d spoken of. 

But now he knew he’d called her Princess. Or she was a Princess. 

Frost got to his feet, stepped lightly across to the edge of the roof. The factory was being renovated, turned into a - he thought it might be a sports hall, because the floor had been done up and repainted with lines that seemed to mark out courts, and he’d watched them bring in equipment to pin up to the walls. But they hadn’t done anything about the empty windows yet, and so he slipped easily inside to wander about its rafters. 

A door opened and shut, echoing in the empty space. 

Frost flinched and looked around, because he hadn’t seen anyone coming, and now- 

A tangle of sun-gold hair. It was bright in the dim space, and he’d recognised it _anywhere_. 

“Rapunzel!” He dropped down from the rafters, eddies of a cool breeze slowing his descent to land him lightly on the floor. “Rapunzel, I remembered-” 

She wasn’t alone. 

Frost brought up his staff to point at this - at this _man_ , he supposed, but there was something _off_ about him. Cold dark colours, his clothes seemed to be a part of him, and when he smiled there were shark’s teeth in his mouth. 

“You found him again, after all this time? And I thought the last time would be - well, the last time.” He laughed, and it felt even to Frost as if the temperature of the room dropped. 

“Who are you?” 

“Frost, you need to _leave_ ,” Rapunzel begged, arms twisted up behind her back and hair loose and ragged from her plait. She’d been fighting, struggling against this man. 

Ice crackled the length of his staff. “Let her go.” 

“Well, doesn’t this feel familiar.” The man hadn’t stopped grinning, and it was a cruel face he wore, calculating and cold. His free arm swept through the air, grains of black sand seeming to shimmer in its wake, and then it - it swirled and shifted and changed shape to become a hooked claw, a talon, and Frost pressed at his chest where his heart should beat but _didn’t_ \- 

“You remember this, do you?” 

Frost levelled his staff again, having dropped it down without realising. “Rapunzel, are you ok?” 

“Frost, you have to _run_. Please.” 

“I can’t let him hurt you.” He didn’t take his eyes off the - not a _man_ , but a _nightmare_ , he’d seen them roaming the city at night, heard the wails from children and adult alike. 

“Well - Frost, is it? Well, Frost. You haven’t been so successful in the past, so what makes you think-” 

Ice sparked along Frost’s staff and hit the nightmare’s feet, holding him to the ground. 

The nightmare almost let go of Rapunzel, and Frost leapt forward to pull her free of its slipping grasp. 

She came willingly, eagerly, and then cried out as the nightmare recovered and caught hold of her plait, pulling her back. 

Rapunzel cried out and Frost tightened his hold on her hand, catching at her warmth - his _sun_ \- and trying to keep her. 

The nightmare was strong, and they both went sliding across the small space back to him. 

“Frost, please.” Rapunzel tried to pull her hand free. “You have to go, you have to run.” 

“Not without you,” he replied, and how had they got so far from the nightmare? Time seemed to have slowed down, or they were pulling back more, or - or _something_ because although they were sliding towards the nightmare without a pause, they hadn’t reached it yet. “I can’t - lose you again,” he said, unbidden. He hadn’t meant to say _again_ , because he’d never met her before, but it felt _right_. 

“You won’t,” she promised, and pulled her hand free. “You’ll find me, I know it.” 

“This isn’t goodbye,” Frost said, springing back out of reach even as Rapunzel was caught and held in the cage-like arms of the nightmare. “I won’t forget.” 

“I know.” She didn’t break eye contact with him. “Now _go_!” 

The light was surging dark, the windows covered by nightmares. Frost turned and shot for one, sparking ice to blast them away, and then he was out into the sunlit air and still streaking higher, away from the nightmares, away from the trap, away from- 

_Rapunzel._

The only person he remembered. He wouldn’t forget, he _couldn’t_ forget. This wasn’t goodbye. They would meet again, and Frost would save her once and for all. 

He closed his eyes, the flash of her worry striking at everything he was. 

Frost would remember, because he had to. Because that nightmare knew who he was, and that meant they’d met before and he must have _lost_ last time, because there was no way that he would willingly let Rapunzel go with that - that _thing._

This time he wouldn’t lose.


	4. Memento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can, I promise.” “You always say that.” “I always come back.” (Doctor Who)
> 
> Hey look at that, we're half way through

The trouble with not forgetting, Frost supposed, was pain. He’d never thought he would be a worrier, and yet here he was.  
But Rapunzel was in danger and he didn’t know so much as where she _lived_ and - and it _hurt_ , to have the power that he had and still be helpless.  
He’d hoped that she would be able to make it out to their overhand at some point, that the nightmare would relax _some_ judgement and let her out, but she hadn’t come. It had been a week and Frost was sitting on the overhang with ice spiralling around him in intricate patterns; a stylised sun, Rapunzel, the cabin he’d woken up beside, Rapunzel, the girl who had been there, _Rapunzel_ , other places he’d travelled across the world, watching them grow and fall and grow again - and always Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Rapunzel.  
Frost kicked to his feet and paced out from the overhang, over the lake on sparkling shards of ice that melted as soon as he lifted his feet to another patch of air.  
He paced, swiping his staff at nothing, just - swinging it to feel the movement, to rush out some of the restless energy that built up with waiting and worry and-  
Was Rapunzel alright? _That_ was the nagging question, the one that-  
He glanced further up, past the thin layer of clouds, to where the moon hung implacable in the dark sky. “Any ideas?” Clutching at straws, now, because the moon had _never_ been much of a conversationalist, but there was always the chance that the moon might answer now, when he had something that really, _truly_ needed answering.  
Instead, the wind picked up and threw him back towards the town. He tumbled lightly with it, amongst the night birds and the bats, and one truly spectacular shadow high, high above them that looked almost dragonish. He would have chased it, but more pressing matter were at hand if the moon had actually _answered_ him.  
He hadn’t seen a dragon in years, had thought they were all but died out. They were one of the few creatures that could see him.  
The wind left him in the suburbs where he’d first tracked her, and landed him on one ordinary house facing another. She couldn’t _truly_ be there, could she?  
The garden was sprawling, kept with some degree of light care that meant it still looked an impenetrable mess of wilderness to an outsider. Frost didn’t recognise any of the plants, but it didn’t look like an ordinary garden.  
And from the corner of his eye something like black dust glittered at the edges of the house, black dust that looked like the stuff of nightmares.  
And yet no cries _came_ from the house, which - now that he’d noticed it - was liberally coated in the stuff. Even the house he rested on wasn’t entirely silent, people moaning in the grips of some dark fear.  
Frost leapt down from his perch and landed in the street, stepping carefully forwards. He held his staff in two hands, across his body and raised to ward off any attack that might come.  
The gate sparked at his hand, nightmare-dust attacking ice crystals. He pushed it open, and the nightmare-dust fell back, revealing the truth to him.  
The house wasn’t a quiet suburbian house. It was tall and spindly, almost a tower. Ancient beyond the oldest parts of the town. The door was small and hidden behind creepers, and maybe on a sunny day it was picturesque, but now, at night...  
Frost held his staff tighter and looked up its height. There was a light on, in the highest of the windows. An attic.  
He kicked off the ground and the wind obligingly carried him higher, to rest against the eaves and peer in.  
The room was bare, little more than a closet. It fitted a bed and a table and a chair, and small space for walking around. There were two doors, one of them half open to reveal a wash basin. The light was coming from there, spreading out across the desk.  
There was no one in the room.  
Frost pressed close to the window, peering in every direction he could, trying to work out whose room it was.  
The other door opened and Rapunzel stepped in, head bowed under the weight of her hair. She closed the door and leant back against it, sighing.  
Frost knocked at the window.  
She started and hurried over, pulling the window open. “What are you _doing_ here?” she hissed, glancing out past him.  
“Looking for you.” He crouched on the windowsill, staff held awkwardly out of the way. “Can I come in?”  
She flicked a look around, then stepped out of the way to let him in.  
He hopped in and paced forward, wrinkling his nose. “You live like _this_? Is this that - that nightmare’s doing?”  
“Pitch. His name is - Pitch.” Rapunzel left the window open and turned to him.  
Pitch. The name was familiar, and it came with the pain in his chest where his heart should be beating.  
“He killed your Jack,” Frost said, his voice hollow. Had she told him that?  
“Yes.” Rapunzel’s voice was low as she sat on the rickety bed.  
Frost crouched on the ground before her. “Why do you stay here? What does he do-”  
“Not him,” Rapunzel said, cutting across him. “He... isn’t so interested in me. But Gothel-”  
Somewhere in the house, something creaked and Rapunzel flinched, turning to the door with terror in her eyes.  
Frost’s hand tightened on his staff and he _snarled_ , because Rapunzel was _terrified_ of this house, these people, and he would do _anything_ to keep her safe-  
“Don’t-” Rapunzel held out a hand and caught at his arm, holding him back. “Please. I can’t-”  
Frost tilted his head up to look at her, forcibly relaxing himself. Setting his staff on the bare floorboards beside his feet. “You can’t...?”  
“Lose you again,” she whispered, and met his eyes for the first time since he’d first called her name.  
Frost shook his head, because she _hadn’t_ lost him before, he’d always come back, and- “You mean Jack.”  
Rapunzel closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”  
The name didn’t... didn’t _quite_ sit right with him, but it was familiar. He could imagine - remember? - someone calling him Jack. It accompanied the pain in his chest, and- “He had a sister. Mary.” That was the girl in the snow, the one that he’d woken to crying. She hadn’t been able to see him, but maybe she’d felt his presence, somehow. He’d followed her back down the mountain, through the forest and into the settlement town. Lost her there, in the wonder at everything. Never found her again.  
Rapunzel cracked open her eyes, watching him. She nodded.  
“And - and _Pitch_ , he-” Frost sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed at his staff.  
“Where are you going?” Rapunzel stood with him, and all of a sudden he was aware of how small the room was, and how close they were standing.  
Frost stepped back, turning towards the window. There were - not quite _memories_ , but _something_ teasing at the edge of his consciousness. “I - I don’t... I have to know.”  
Pitch would have the answers. That grinning face was clear, _knowing_ , menacing - if nothing else, he would keep Pitch away from Rapunzel for good.  
Rapunzel caught at his hand, just before he hopped up onto the windowsill.  
Awkwardly, he turned to face her. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can, I _promise_.” The words had an echo of truth about them, of memory.  
Rapunzel managed to smile, though the fear was tight about her eyes. “You - he always said that.”  
“Well.” Jack shrugged, smiling at her. “I always come back, don’t I?” And he leapt out of the window, back into the cool night air.


	5. Memento Eligere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You said you couldn’t be with someone who didn’t believe in you. Well I believed in you. I just didn’t believe in me. I love you.” (Pretty in Pink)
> 
> [Latin is something like... Remember you must choose?]

Frost _shouldn’t_ be Jack.  
She’d thought that part of her life was over, and she had all but given up even daring to _hope_ , but-  
Rapunzel gritted her teeth and worked at her latest sketch almost blindly. A dragon, or the impression of one. She’d seen it against the moon the night that Jack - that _Frost_ , not Jack (but oh, hadn’t he _seemed_ so much like Jack by the end of it, and the promise, and-) - had found her.  
He shouldn’t be Jack but he could be, even though she’d thought that the last time - with that death, with _Pitch_ , that it would have been the end. And after so many years-  
He’d never taken so long before. He’d never looked so much like a past life before. She’d always known him, recognised him for his - his _spirit_ , the light in his eyes - but his outward appearance had _always_ changed.  
But equally, he had never been like _this_ before. Not that white (like snow, like paper, like a _ghost_ ), not with the ice that seemed to be a part of him, not with his memories-  
Jack had never remembered her before. Every time they met, in his new life, it was the first time. They met and they were friends and they fell in love and-  
And Jack died. Every time. But never that violently, never by Pitch’s own hand.  
The paper tore under her pencil, ripping right through the sketch.  
Rapunzel blinked and focused. Her sketch had gone awry before she’d torn it to pieces, the pencil following the lines of her thoughts into _Jack’s_ face, _Frost’s_ eyes, until the dragon lost beneath the two boys that could be twins. If they weren’t the same person.  
She pushed away from the desk and paced the confines of her room, sweeping her hair out of the way every time she turned.  
She was just so - so _tired_ of running. She wanted it to be over, she wanted to - not to be _scared_ , not to have to live in this prison of a tower, not to have to be constantly glancing over her shoulder to check where Pitch and Gothel were, not to-  
She caught her foot in her own hair and fell, hitting the ground on her hands and knees.  
She wanted not to have _so much hair_ because it was useless to her, when she’d never wanted any life but a normal one, and now that had been taken and stretched and _lost_ , because one person wanted immortality for herself.  
Rapunzel traced a new strand of brown in the hair beneath her hands. More had been broken when she fell, and when they broke they lost the power to heal.  
And that was another thing - never allowed to do anything, cosseted because of her _hair_ , because it might get damaged. Never mind the rest of her.  
She sighed and turned to sit against the bed, staring out through the window. “Oh, _Jack_ ,” she sighed.  
He’d wanted her to cut her hair, when Gothel first came after them. When she'd been a princess and he'd been a thief, when they'd first left the palace of her family to keep them safe. She’d been - not _scared_ , exactly, but unwilling. It was a gift to be shared - she wanted to _heal_ , to _help_ , and the sun’s gift seemed only to be in her sun-silk hair, so she couldn’t-  
It had been nerves. The one thing she clung to, when everything else changed about her.  
Oh, but she’d been an idiot. Better to have cut it then, and saved them both all this pain.  
“Rapunzel?” Gothel’s voice echoed up through the house. “Rapunzel, come down here!”  
Rapunzel stood and carefully coiled up her hair about her arm, gently teasing free the dead brown strands.  
Gothel was waiting in the kitchen for her, composed but for the tapping of her finger against her bony elbow. White strands shone in her hair, wrinkles lined her face.  
Rapunzel took up her seat on the small stool before the stove.  
“What happened to your hair?” Gothel asked, picking up a brush.  
“I tripped,” Rapunzel replied, tonelessly. “Some of it must have been damaged. I’m sorry.”  
As Gothel lifted her hair up, Rapunzel straightened out her back; the weight of it gone was a noticeable relief.  
“You’re getting clumsier,” Gothel remarked.  
“It won’t happen again.” Rapunzel closed her eyes as she started to sing. “Flower, gleam and glow.”  
Gothel’s eyes lit up with the gleam from Rapunzel’s hair and she started to brush it, occasionally immersing her arm as much as she could into the length of it.  
When Rapunzel finished her song, Gothel was young again, and smiling in satisfaction.  
“There. Now isn’t that better?” Gothel swept from the kitchen without waiting for an answer.  
Rapunzel stayed where she was, tears beginning to seep from her tired eyes. She closed them, placing her head in her hands. She was so _tired_. Year in, year out. Always the same. Nothing had changed since Jack’s death but the city around them. Pitch’s power had grown, but Gothel and Rapunzel-  
Well, perhaps Gothel’s power had grown, too. It was hard to tell with a witch that dealt in potions and poisons and charms.  
But Rapunzel had only let her her grow, and let them tell her what to do. And now Jack was back (Frost _was_ Jack, he _had_ to be, there was no other explanation) and she was still sitting here doing nothing.  
She had to - what could she do? After so long, the fight was all but beaten from her, worn down and ground to nothing.  
Wisps of brown hair were loose about her face, unable to stay brushed back with the far longer blonde. She brushed them away as they tickled at her nose, and then halted, staring at the strands.  
When her hair was cut, it turned brown. It could no longer heal, no longer provide Gothel with her immortality.  
And if she couldn’t do _that_ for Gothel, then they had no more need to keep her around. Maybe they wouldn’t follow.  
Her hands shaking, Rapunzel stood up and searched through the drawers in the kitchen. She wouldn’t be able to heal by magical means, but medicine had come on in the centuries since she was a child. She could learn, and do it by the skill in her own hands, not the magic in her hair.  
She found her craft scissors, incongruous in amongst the small gardening tools that Gothel used.  
And now that she’d found them, Rapunzel hesitated. This was - this was a lot. Everything would change, she didn’t _know_ what would happen to her.  
“Rapunzel? I saw her leaving, and-” Jack - Frost? - Jack was at the back door, leaning over the lower half of it. Actually, _crouching_ on the lower half of it, folded almost in half to fit all of his stick-thin body into the space. “What are you doing?”  
“You told me, once, that I should trust you. That you believed it was the right thing to do,” Rapunzel said, finding the strength to move, to bring part of her hair forward over her shoulder, measuring the craft scissors roughly against where she wanted to cut. It didn’t matter, really, so long as it was _gone_. “I didn’t do it then because I was scared. But it wasn’t because I didn’t believe in you.” She could get it cut properly, styled not to be a mess later. But right now, it just needed to be away.  
Jack was confused, and obviously so. He couldn’t remember that, because it was from a life before the last one. He never remembered them, not all the way. But he didn’t make any move to stop her.  
“I’ve always believed in you,” Rapunzel said, continuing. “Through every life and every year. I just - I didn’t believe in me.” Without thinking more, she closed the scissors on her hair.  
A great swathe of it fell away and turned brown before the end of it hit the kitchen floor.  
Jack stepped from his perch and into the kitchen, staring at her in - shock? in wonder?  
She felt lopsided now, all the weight gone from one side and still heavy on the other. She transferred the scissors to her other hand and readied the next part of her hair. “I didn’t believe I could do this, could _really_ do this and not - and not regret it. But-” she met his eyes, closed the scissors again. Heard the hairs parting, felt the weight fall away, saw the brown streak swallow gold and fall to the floor. “I can. And I love you.” There was one piece left, at the back of her head where she couldn’t reach properly.  
Jack smiled and placed his staff across the table.  
Rapunzel offered him the scissors and turned her back to him.  
“Well,” Jack said, laughter light in his voice. “You do look good with brown hair.” And he cut the last of the blonde away, and Rapunzel felt so light she could _fly_.


	6. Memento consummare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I didn't forget about this for the past however long it's been  
> ...  
> oops
> 
> Latin is getting... increasingly worse, I think ^^; this time it should be something like "remember you must finish"
> 
> DAY 5 – “I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. I choose a mortal life.”(Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring)

They stole away into the city, carrying nothing with them but Jack’s staff and Rapunzel’s worn sketchbook. Everything else, they left for Pitch and Gothel to find.  
Jack had wanted to arrange the swathes of her hair artfully about the place, where they might trip over it, to place it to knock things away and make a mess.  
The idea had been _so_ tempting, but Rapunzel had laughed and knocked his hands away and walked out the front door. It was good just to leave it to them. Leave it all as they had left it, all their possessions. The lengths of hair had always been theirs, ever since the first.  
“What’s our plan now?” Jack asked.  
They were sitting in a park on the edge of town, up amongst the trees.  
“We can run,” Rapunzel replied, watching the children play, carefree in the sunlight. “I don’t think they’ll follow.”  
Jack wrinkled his nose and stretched his foot out to kick at the side of a fallen branch. “Is there not something we can do to make sure she doesn’t?”  
Rapunzel shrugged. “Gothel - Gothel wanted immortality, and I don’t think I can - I’m not going to provide that any more.” Pitch had never been too concerned, but they _had_ worked together for some indecipherable reason.  
A chill rolled over the park, the wind playing with their hair.  
Rapunzel lifted a hand to hers, the _feeling_ of it strange and new. Her hair had always been too heavy to be moved by the wind.  
“She’ll be pissed off. She might come anyway, if she reckons you still hold some of the power,” Jack murmured.  
Rapunzel hadn’t tried to check if she did; she didn’t _want_ to, she wanted to be free of it all. “So - what do you suggest, then?” she asked, helpless.  
Children came careening out of the trees behind them, laughing wildly as they were chased by each other in some elaborate game of tag. One of them tripped over a tree root and tumbled, bowling into Jack - and _through_ Jack.  
Rapunzel gasped, hands flying to her mouth as she stared at him.  
“Sorry!” The kid came to a halt and righted himself, apparently undamaged by his tumble but for grass and mud stains that now covered his clothes. “Sorry, miss.”  
Rapunzel glanced at the kid, who was staring earnestly at her. Not at Jack.  
Jack sighed and dusted himself off. “I’m not hurt,” he said, in a subdued voice. “But you’d better reassure the kid you’re alright.”  
They’d all gathered at the bottom of the rise, around the kid who’d fallen.  
Rapunzel tore her gaze from Jack long enough to smile weakly at them. “You didn’t catch me.”  
The kid nodded uncertainly, and glanced at the spot where Jack was sitting, drawing his knees up to his chest.  
One of his friends pushed him in the shoulder. “You’re _it_!”  
The rest of the kids ran, scattering across the park.  
This one backed up and wiped his grubby hands on the tartan about his waist. “If - if you’re sure,” he offered, not entirely convincingly.  
“Harris, come _on_!”  
“It’s alright.” Rapunzel nodded, gesturing him on.  
The kid ran off, finally.  
Rapunzel shifted so she was facing Jack. “Does that happen... often?”  
“Only when I don’t get out of the way.” He shrugged lightly. “No one else can see me, ‘Punz. Well - Pitch _could_ , but he doesn’t count.”  
“Just since you woke up in the snow?” Rapunzel leapt to her feet, stretching. Restless, suddenly, with energy coiled and wanting to be used.  
Jack was light on his own, barely touching the ground. “I think it’s part of the whole thing. You know - death, not-death, spirits and magic?” He turned his free hand over, and a snowflake appeared in the shape of her sun. “Not that I’d know anything about it. Nobody’s really told me _Jack_ since I woke up.” He laughed at his own joke, teeth flashing in the sun.  
They walked into the trees, and Jack led them unerringly to the overhang where they’d met.  
The lake was calm below them, throwing the reflection of the sky back up at it.  
Rapunzel had been quiet as they travelled, contemplating. When they stopped, she stepped right to the overhang and wrapped her arms about herself.  
“If _you_ can see me, that’s all I care about,” Jack said, turning back to land lightly on the ground beside her; he’d been half floating, stepping out over the lake below them.  
Slow clapping filled the air. “How _sweet_. How utterly _noble_.”  
Rapunzel tensed as she turned, hands becoming tight fists on the sketchpad in her arms.  
Jack turned, too, and his staff was held ready in his hand.  
Gothel stepped out from amongst the trees, a shining knife clasping in one hand, up against her side with no notion to concealment. “Jackson Overland,” she drawled. “It _has_ been a while.”  
Rapunzel had almost instinctively shrank back into Jack’s shadow; he stepped forward to shield her, teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.  
“I’m disappointed, Rapunzel,” Gothel said, ignoring Jack. “You squandered your gift, after all this time?” Her eyes narrowed, glaring at Rapunzel and her raggedly shortened hair.  
“It wasn’t a gift.” Rapunzel shook her head. “You wouldn’t _let_ me use it as a gift.”  
“And now you won’t get to use it as a gift. Do you see what you’ve done?”  
“She’s taken her _freedom_ , that’s what she’s done,” Jack snapped, bristling. “There’s nothing here for you.”  
“Oh, I think there still is.” Gothel turned her sharp gaze on him. “She might not have the gift I need any more, but _you_... you just might.”  
“Why can’t you just leave us be?” Rapunzel asked, almost begging.  
“Because _you_ have stolen from me and you don’t expect any repercussions.”  
“We never took anything that wasn’t ours,” Jack replied.  
“She is mine.” Gothel pointed a crooked finger at Rapunzel.  
“Slavery isn’t exactly legal.” Jack snorted. “And-”  
“You _stole_ me,” Rapunzel snapped.  
“Like your parents stole my flower!”  
“That flower wasn’t _anyone’s_ , it was a gift from the sun and you hid it away!”  
Gothel laughed, eyes cold and mirthless. “That was a _long_ time ago.”  
“Semantics.” Jack shrugged. “What do you think I have that you would want? That I would _give_ you?”  
“For her safety, I think you would give anything.” Gothel studied her.  
Rapunzel shook her head. “No, we don’t owe you - you’re not taking _anything_. Jack, _please_ let’s just go.” She wrapped her hands about his near arm, pulling him back with her.  
Jack glanced at her and wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her back out into the air above the lake.  
Rapunzel wrapped her arms tight about him and stared defiantly at Gothel, as if daring her to come closer.  
“Oh, yes, very impressive,” Gothel said dryly. “Just think of all the protection you can give her now! If only people could see you.”  
Jack sparked ice at the ground about her; Gothel didn’t so much as flinch.  
“Yes, _Frost_ , I know a way to make people see you again.”  
“She’ll want something _more_ in return, it isn’t worth it,” Rapunzel whispered, turning her face into his neck.  
“Yes, but ‘Punz...” Jack’s voice was low and hoarse. “I’ve been so - alone.”  
“I know, I know. But we can find someone else - if she knows a way, then someone else will, as well.”  
Jack tilted his head, as if listening to her, but his eyes were distant.  
Rapunzel clung tighter to him, aware of all the space below her feet, and though the wind seemed to keep them buoyant she felt heavy.  
Gothel was waiting for them, a sly smirk playing her face as if she _knew_ they couldn’t say no. That Jack would capitulate to her.  
Jack’s eyes cleared and he nodded. “Come to the lake, tomorrow evening.” He pointed below them with his staff.  
“You agree to the trade?” Gothel raised a single eyebrow. “Not knowing what it is?”  
“Jack...”  
Jack swung Rapunzel properly into his arms and smirked at Gothel. “Don’t be late. As the moon rises.” Without waiting for an answer, he let the wind take them away into the sky, and Rapunzel watched Gothel disappear below them.

One and a half days. One and a half days to build up and carry out a plan that Jack had hastily explained to her when they set down, in a cafe that was filled with students. Rapunzel had sat at the table with just her drink before her and nodded numbly at it as Jack stood close beside her, trying not to wince every time someone passed through a part of him in the crowded confines.  
She wondered if he hadn’t chosen the cafe for that purpose, to underline just how much he wanted to be... to be real again. To be seen, to be a _part_ of everything like she was.  
She couldn’t blame him. But that didn’t mean she had to like his plan, which involved him and Gothel, alone out on the lake while she hid. While he handed over the one thing that had kept him alive all these years.  
Or - not _alive_ , he insisted, holding her hand to his chest where his heart didn’t beat, but... but something.  
Rapunzel shifted in the small cave and watched as Jack paced across the ice.  
The sun was almost setting, and Gothel hadn’t arrived yet. But she would. The lure of power was too much for her _not_ to arrive.  
Jack swung his staff and turned to look towards where Rapunzel hid, as if checking on her.  
She didn’t like this hiding, but she understood the necessity of it. Gothel might try _something_ , a further piece of misguided revenge.  
She watched Jack’s head turn, and followed his gaze to where Gothel stepped out into the moonlight, resplendent in elegant robes that seemed more fit for castle halls and ballrooms than this clearing and the iced over lake.  
Jack stepped lightly to meet her, and led her out onto the lake.  
Gothel hesitated at the edge of it, and Jack’s laughter echoed clear across it to where Rapunzel hid.  
She wished she could hear their _words_ , what they were saying.  
Gothel drew herself up and strode out onto the lake, past Jack, who followed (with that wry grin of his that Rapunzel knew so well flickering across his face, she was sure).  
They stopped in the centre of the lake and Gothel turned to face Jack, who placed his staff to the side and offered her his hands.  
Rapunzel tensed, _knowing_ that those wide sleeves could easily hide a knife, could easily-  
She burst from her cover and onto the rocks of the lake’s side, crying out as Gothel pushed her sleeves out of the way with a flourish. She stopped there, where ice met rock, as both of them turned towards her.  
She saw Jack say something angrily in reply to Gothel and grab her arms, turning her hands palm up.  
Gothel raised an imperious eyebrow, but let herself be manhandled.  
Rapunzel clutched her sketchbook like a shield and kept her eyes on Jack, offering fast and mumbling prayers to the sun, to whoever was listening, to keep him safe. To let this work.  
Ice flurried up about them, obscuring them from Rapunzel’s view. The wind whipped up, too, tossing her short hair in every which direction, the longer strands catching her eyes.  
The lake melted, and Rapunzel’s boots splashed into it before she stepped back onto the drier rocks behind her.  
“Jack,” she whispered, _aching_ to see, to - for him to be safe, for this to be over-  
The ice dropped, showing her one figure in the middle of the lake, balanced on a crate they’d floated out and frozen below the surface of the lake.  
Jack raised his staff to her, and Rapunzel let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and the tension drained out of her.  
He crouched and lifted up the rope that tethered the crate to the shore where she stood, and pulled himself towards her.  
There was no sign of Gothel.  
“She went straight down,” he said, stepping onto the shore. “I think we’re-”  
Rapunzel threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and burying her face in his neck.  
Jack laughed and hugged her, chin resting on her head.  
She could feel his heartbeat. He was _warm_. “It worked?” She lifted her head to look at him.  
His eyes were still ice-blue, but his hair - his hair was brown again, dark brown as it had been before. He grinned at her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It worked.”  
“And she-” Rapunzel looked out at the still lake.  
“Will take a while to resurface.” Jack glanced upwards. “And then - well.”  
There was something he wasn’t saying, but that was ok. That was fine, that was - _alright_ because they were together and they were safe and-  
“What about Pitch?” Rapunzel’s arms tightened around him.  
True, Pitch had never cared much for her gift, but-  
“He’s moved on,” Jack said. “Or he will. This isn’t convenient for him, anymore.”  
So Pitch _was_ still out there. But there would always be nightmares. Rapunzel knew, would have her own fair share of them.  
“As long as we’re together, right ‘Punz?” Jack asked, as she slowly released him from her hold.  
She nodded, taking his hand. “Do - do you think that’s it? The end of - everything?”  
“All things have an end, ‘Punz.”  
“Yes, but... you were immortal.”  
“So were you.” Jack led her away from the lake, back into the trees and towards the city.  
“Yes, but-” Not quite at the same time, she wanted to say.  
“We had to meet halfway, you mean?” Jack asked, laughing. “It’s alright, ‘Punz. You’ve had a long life, I’ve had many. But I’d rather have this last mortal life with you than all the ages to come.”  
“It doesn’t seem... fair, somehow,” Rapunzel murmured. “That I remember all of our lives - or bits of them, anyway. And you barely remember your last.”  
“I remember enough.” Jack shrugged, unconcerned. “And we can make more memories. Isn’t that what life’s about?”  
Rapunzel nodded.  
“So, where shall we go first?”  
“Anywhere. Everywhere. Away from here.” Rapunzel smiled, starting - finally - to see their future together, untainted by fear.


	7. Memento satus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last of the prompts  
>  And it was, actually, day seven of the week as well. I did manage to end in the right order, so there's that.
> 
> “Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” (E.E.Cummings)

Jack handed over the keys to the kid - ok, _teenager_ , whatever (he looked the age that Jack looked, but Jack was _older_ ) - with a barely suppressed grin. “There you go. Use whatever, do whatever with it.” 

Hiccup took the keys, showing only _slight_ confusion. “You... are aware I - we have a dragon with us?” 

“Yep.” Jack nodded, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Still, we did say we’d allow pets. And there’s a strong enough charm on the house and garden that no one’s going to _notice_ you have him back there.” 

Hiccup looked again at the ordinary seeming house behind Jack, and shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“Used to be owned by a witch.” Jack shrugged carelessly. “I guess some of the charms stuck around.” 

Rapunzel had renewed the charms, when they realised they were failing. She’d picked up enough from Gothel that she could do that and a few other things. 

Hiccup nodded, pocketing the keys. “Ok, thanks. And - when can we move in from?” 

“From today, if you like,” Rapunzel said, joining them, handing a rucksack to Jack. “I don’t want to spend longer here than I have to.” She was wriggling with excitement, dashing back inside for her own bag. 

Jack shouldered his with a laugh, smiling as he watched her dive back inside. 

“Going somewhere good?” Hiccup asked. 

“Anywhere,” Jack replied. “Everywhere. She’s never really travelled before, and now that the chance has come up... well.” 

Hiccup smiled and offered his hand. “Well - have a good trip. We’ll take care of the place.” He glanced up at the house behind Jack again, squinting as if he could see through the charm from the gate. 

Jack shook his hand and took up his staff as Rapunzel joined them. “Ready?” 

Her bag was almost bigger than her, and she nodded eagerly. 

“Don’t need to say goodbye to anything?” Jack grinned. 

Rapunzel laughed and pushed him out the gate; Hiccup stepped smartly to one side to let them past. 

“Safe travels,” Hiccup said, lifting his hand in a wave. 

Rapunzel glanced back at him and smiled. “Thank you.” Then, slipping her hand into Jack’s, they walked away down the street. 

They had a plan, of sorts. There was a bus to take them out of the city, and they had maps and food and some money coming in from renting the property that had somehow become Rapunzel’s after Gothel’s disappearance. 

Most of all, they had each other. 

Jack smiled at her and had to step out of the way of pedestrians so they wouldn’t bump into him. 

“What?” Rapunzel laughed at him, glancing back as if to make sure he was still there. 

“Nothing,” he replied. “I’m just - glad this is how we start our life together. Just the two of us and the open road.” He could tell, by the way she looked at him, that she was remembering something else, someone different. Himself from a past life perhaps (he hadn’t quite understood that, when she’d explained, but _stranger things_ and all that), or- “Are you sure you want to start with somewhere entirely new?” he asked, the thought not a completely new one itself. “If we went back to where we _first_ came from, that would be... poetic, right?” 

Rapunzel considered that. “It would be, I guess.” She chewed her lip. “But... I don’t want to. Not quite yet.” 

He could never understand _everything_ that went through her head - she was older, remembered most of their shared past - but he thought he could get that. “Too many bad memories?” 

“Too many sad ones.” Rapunzel ran her free hand back through her hair, laughing when she got to the end of it and still wasn’t prepared. 

“We’ll make happier ones,” Jack replied, squeezing her hand. “I promise.” 

They were at the edge of the bus station now, and there was a bus waiting in the rank for them. 

“I know,” Rapunzel said, and suddenly she slipped free and was running for the bus across the length of the concourse. “Come on!” 

Jack blinked after her and laughed, startled by the sudden movement. 

Someone banged into his shoulder and he laughed at _that_ , too. 

Rapunzel spun on one foot beside the bus and waved to him. 

Jack set off to meet her. She might not have her sun-kissed hair any more, but - she was still his sun. 

Rapunzel was breathing hard when he caught up with her, and gave him a blinding smile. 

Jack laughed and kissed her forehead and slung both their rucksacks into the undercarriage of the bus. “Come on.” 

She was blinding and warmth and all he’d ever asked for, even when he didn’t know what he was asking. 

They paid their way onto the bus and sat down, and Rapunzel pressed up against the window to peer out through its tinted glass, even though they hadn’t started moving yet. 

Jack laughed again as he set his staff in the overhead space. 

“What?” Rapunzel shifted as he sat down, turning more to face him. 

Jack set an arm about her shoulders. “You’re like my own personal sun,” he replied. 

Her eyes went wide with that hint of far away memory, but they cleared and focused on him with a soft smile. “And you’re my moon.” 

_That_ rang true - it was by the moon that he had come back, had been given his spirit’s strength. By the moon he had saved her, because he couldn’t have done it without the moon’s approval. 

He wondered, fleetingly, what would happen to Gothel when she resurfaced in the dark of the moon - it wasn’t too far off now. The moon had said it would let the _Guardians_ know, whoever they were. 

All he knew was that his part - their part - was finished. 

Jack smiled and kissed her forehead, and Rapunzel rested against his chest as they waited for the bus to take them onwards into their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. A sweet ending. A crossover with that other pair. Totally all we've  
>  Nope ok there's one more chapter that wasn't part of the week bc I felt I had things to clear up. I did however only get around to writing it this year when I edited all this back up
> 
> Anyhow have fun and I'll be back in a week with the last chapter! theoretically.


	8. nolīte oblīviscī

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nolīte oblīviscī - _Never forget_

It was dark when Gothel pulled herself from the lake to the shore. It had been dark when she went under, so she wasn’t sure how long it had been. 

She remembered _everything _, and that Jack _Frost_ had tricked her into this, and he would _pay_. Him and that useless girl, who had destroyed _everything_ that they’d worked for- __

__Part of her hair, plastered wet and dripping, fell forward in front of her eyes as she dropped her head downwards, gasping with the effort of pulling herself up._ _

__It was _white_ , almost glowing in the darkness. _ _

__Shaking, Gothel put a hand up to touch it, and found - not _wet_ , but frozen. Her breath puffed in the night, shards of ice like knives falling to the stones beneath her. She was- _ _

__She pushed herself to her feet and brushed dirt from her velvet robes, and found them patterned with more of the knife-like ice marks. Her hands weren’t wrinkled but smooth, as smooth as they had been in her prime, with no sign of the cuts along her arms where she’d drawn blood for some of her magic. And they were _shaking_ , but she wasn’t cold. Or _scared_ \- Gothel had never been scared, not even when she’d been a child and Pitch had come for his tithe. She’d known her purpose then, and now - well, nothing had _changed_. She was still Gothel, still in control, and those _children_ would get what came their way. _ _

__Footsteps crunched along the pebbles. Or - not footsteps, exactly, but sand running between the rocks, shifting like the tide._ _

__Gothel looked up, smoothing her icy hair back out of the way. “Sandman.”_ _

__He was squat and golden, standing barely knee high on a smooth boulder that put him at about eye level. He studied her, frowning, and shook his head._ _

__“It was a fair deal,” Gothel said, her smile brittle. “I did not force him to it.”_ _

__Sandman raised an eyebrow and sand swirled about him in his approximation of speech._ _

__Gothel studied the symbols and laughed. “No, I will not become a Guardian. We should go our separate ways, Sandman. Nothing good will come of this meeting.”_ _

__Sandman sighed and cracked a whip that was formed of the same golden sand as himself._ _

__Gothel raised an elegant, ice-white eyebrow. “Well now, _that’s_ a bit of a stretch. I don’t ascribe to your lofty position, so we must fight?” _ _

__“You are not the moon’s avatar,” North said, and the blade of his right sword was at her throat._ _

__Gothel hadn’t heard him arrive, and she side-eyed him as he stood on the shore, implacable in his great red presence._ _

__“This cannot last.”_ _

__Sandmand nodded, and his expression was - not _kind_ , but understanding, almost. _ _

__“As if you understand,” she hissed at him. “You were _given_ your power, I have had to _work_ to where I am now.” _ _

__“And you have done that by kidnapping and imprisonment and extortion. No, you are not a Guardian,” North said, finality in his voice. “And you are not the moon’s avatar, and so you cannot have the moon’s power.”_ _

__Gothel studied her hands, turning them over as if to study the power that she held in them. “The moon’s own power, you say?” She smiled. “Does that make me stronger than all of you?”_ _

__Oh, but she was _cold_ , terribly so. As if she was still soaking, still drenched in the depths of the dark lake behind her. It bit bone deep and deeper, right to the core of her being. _ _

__“It makes you unfit,” North replied._ _

__“It was a gift,” Gothel said, reminding them. “And you cannot take what has been given.”_ _

__North dipped his head, conceding her the point, but his blade didn’t waver from her throat._ _

__“Can’t you feel it hurting, though?” That was a new voice, on her other side. Bunny. “That power wasn’t meant for you. Are you cold?” He smiled easily, implacable in the false facade of kindness._ _

__Gothel forced her hands steady, refusing to let Bunny have that satisfaction. She was not _scared_ , she was not _cold_ (but oh, it bit deep into her bones, as if turning them to ice. As if she had moved her last in getting to the shore). “If that is all, gentlemen?” _ _

__“The moon has phases,” North said, whether as a warning or as conversation, it was unclear. “And all things must die, in the end.”_ _

__“I will rise with the new moon,” Gothel replied, pushing his sword away as she turned to face him. “This phase is _mine_ , given to me by Frost for the girl’s _useless_ life.” _ _

__“And it will hurt,” North promised._ _

__“We could help,” Bunny said. “We could make it easier for you to bear.”_ _

__Gothel watched Sandman, because he was watching steadily, as if this was all somehow beneath him. “And what does the Sandman think of this offer? You know who I am, what I have done. Who I work with.”_ _

__“Ah yes, Pitch.” North smiled. “Where is he now?”_ _

__Sandman shook his head and pulled his whip tight between his hands._ _

__Pitch wasn’t coming. Gothel hadn’t seen him in days, but that was normal. This city was not the only place he ruled._ _

__“You won’t take our help, then?” Bunny asked._ _

__Gothel shot him a dismissive glare. “I need _nothing_ from you.” _ _

__Bunny looked past her to North and shrugged. “Can’t say we tried. Now, I have Easter to prepare for.” He stepped backwards and into a rabbit hole that opened below him._ _

__North laughed. “Sandy. Jack came to you, did he not? Did he leave instructions?”_ _

__The image of a tower floated above Sandman’s head._ _

__Gothel let out a dismissive bark of laughter and stepped sideways, onto the lake. Ice sputtered and formed at her feet, laced with thin cracks and threatening to break at any moment. But it held her weight, as she stepped further out. “I will _not_ be your prisoner.” _ _

__North turned to watch her go. “No?”_ _

__“No,” she said, with finality._ _

__They were curiously... detached from the whole affair. Neither of them followed after her - _Tooth_ hadn’t even appeared. _ _

__Maybe because they knew they could threaten all they wanted, but the power was Gothel’s to do with as she wished._ _

__“Well, North, Sandman.” She dipped her head to them. “It has been so nice to have this little catch up.”_ _

__“We should do it more often.” North sheathed his sword and stood beside Sandman’s boulder, folding his arms. “Shall we say in a month’s time?”_ _

__A month. They were giving her a month’s reprieve? Gothel _laughed_. She could do a lot in a month. She and Pitch could rule the world in a month, and then they would have the power to make this permanent, to make her- _ _

__The ice cracked underneath her feet and she fell, splashing into the lake. There was a rope - she caught at it to keep her head above water, and tried to focus her new power to freeze the lake about her once more._ _

__North laughed from the shore, a deep belly laugh that echoed about the rock walls above the lake. “Perhaps you will have better luck then, hm?” He walked away, leaving Sandman alone on his rock._ _

__Sandman stepped lightly out over the lake, several feet above the surface of it to look down at Gothel._ _

__She glared back at him and started to pull her way along the rope._ _

__Her movements echoed back from the cliffs, breaking the stillness of the lake._ _

__“Why are you still here?” she spat out, sitting on the rocks at the edge and controlling her breathing so that she wasn’t panting like some _dog_. _ _

__Her breath puffed in the night air, condensing to mist and back to icy shards that fell and scattered across her robes._ _

__Sandman held out a hand, and the image of a girl appeared there, a girl with impossibly long hair._ _

__“ _Rapunzel_ ,” Gothel growled. “You know she forfeited _her_ gift, too.” _ _

__Sandman smiled and shook his head as the hair fell away from the figure, as she was joined by a boy with a staff. Although there were no features to them, Gothel could all but _feel_ the happiness and joy exuding from them. _ _

__She growled and lashed out a hand; ice sped from it and pierced the figures, and the sand fell away into the air._ _

__Sandman brushed his hands against himself and dipped his head in farewell._ _

__Gothel watched him disappear into the lightening sky._ _

__A month. A month to plan and grow stronger._ _

__She smiled thinly and got to her feet, glowing with cold and cruel frost in the blackness of the night._ _

__A month was more than long enough._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are  
>  I've had this sitting in drafts for aages whoops sorry  
>  I don't think I will be fixing up the mericcup ones. I tried - I know where they're supposed to go - but I can't be satisfied right now.  
>  And yes, that is open ended, isn't it? Back in the heyday of this fandom, I entertained thoughts of writing a full length fic, and this as... a sort of intro, I guess?  
>  I don't have any designs on it atm but I may be convinced, if people ask nicely :3
> 
> Come bother me on tumblr @captainnightgale!!

**Author's Note:**

> uh  
> oops?


End file.
